Seventeen Days
by ClaudiaRain
Summary: Granger temporarily transfers Nell to a different team and Callen doesn't handle it very well.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** I own nothing, though I made up a few characters to help this along. It's **Callen/Nell** , as I'm incapable of writing anything else for this show. This was supposed to be a one-shot and it got too long, so now it's two parts.

 **XXXXXX**

"Catch."

Nell looked up from her computer in time to grab the phone Callen tossed her way. "Not again," she sighed, checking the screen. "You've locked yourself out three times this month."

"I resent that accusation. There's clearly something wrong with it."

She punched in his code and the screen blinked a few times before going completely black. "Yeah, the problem is definitely the phone, not its user."

He gave her chair a light shove and she caught herself on the desk before it could roll too far.

"Keep it up," she said, tone sweetly threatening.

"Or what?" he asked, not sounding concerned in the slightest.

"Or…something you won't like," she said vaguely, distracted enough by the phone that she wasn't paying much attention to his question.

"I doubt there's anything you could do to me that I wouldn't like," he said, easily.

When she glanced at him, his grin was far too wide. "Is that a challenge? I think you've inspired me."

He grabbed a chair and pulled it over to wait while she worked. "I could only hope."

She waited until he sat down and then gave his chair a kick of her own, sending him right into the back of Eric's chair.

"Sorry," Callen offered, "that was Nell."

Eric said nothing, though he made a point to shake his head at them in disapproval before moving across the room to hopefully work unencumbered.

Nell went back to the cell phone which she'd restarted. "I'd work faster if you weren't –"

"Helping?"

"– bothering me."

He ignored that. "I swear I've been putting in the code right. I think someone is changing it on me. I blame Deeks."

"You let him have access to it?" she asked, as she tried to bypass the main screen.

"No, you're right, I haven't. At least that I'm aware. Maybe he's doing it remotely?"

"I think he has better things to do than…" she trailed off as she thought about it. "Never mind, it's entirely possible he'd devote that much time to screwing with you."

Callen spun back and forth in his chair, too restless to stay still for long. "So you admit it's not my fault? Back me up here, Eric. You heard her."

Eric kept on pretending they weren't in the room.

"I never said that," Nell argued. "Though if Deeks is behind this, I can't say you wouldn't deserve it, either."

"Whatever happened to loyalty?" Callen announced to the room at large. A few people looked over, but no one answered him. "Anyone? Come on!"

Eric could stay quiet no longer as he swiveled his chair to face Callen. "You stole his car."

"I _moved_ his car."

"Three blocks over," Eric said. "He should have had you arrested."

"There's that lack of loyalty again," Callen admonished. "In my defense, it was after he swapped our desks in the bullpen so he could sit next to Kensi. You know how much I hate people touching my things."

"Yeah," Nell stifled a sigh, "letting him think his car had been stolen was an entirely rational response on your part."

"Harmless prank wars," Callen said, shrugging off their censure. "Besides, Hetty made us stop. Though if you're confirming that he did something to my phone…"

Nell shook the phone in frustration and wondered if throwing it to the floor would be as effective as anything she'd tried thus far. "No, I think this is entirely you and my proof is all the times you've done it before. Maybe I can reset it."

"That'll take forever," he complained. "It's easier to give me a new one."

"This _is_ a new one. I gave it to you last month when you destroyed your previous brand-new phone."

He narrowed his eyes at her; she knew that had been an accident. "They're supposed to be water-proof. Why label them that way if they aren't?"

"They're 'water- _resistant_ ' and that doesn't cover jumping into the ocean."

"The guy we were after dove off his yacht! And of course the moron couldn't swim – how is that my fault?"

She took the battery out. "Give me a minute and I'm sure I'll find a way to blame you."

"I suppose I could have let him drown," he said thoughtfully, as if it might have been a viable alternative. "There were a lot of witnesses, though. Tell you what, next time a similar situation arises, I'll shove Sam in first."

She shot him her patented 'I'm-highly-amused-but-it's-not-professional-to-admit-it' look. He loved that look so much that he kept score of how often he earned it (third time so far that week, he definitely had a knack for bringing it out in her). Equally enjoyable was the predictable backtracking she always employed immediately thereafter.

"While you're here, Agent Callen," she began, as he mentally checked off her serious tone and the way she formally addressed him, "the assistant director flagged your last expense report."

Callen was pretty sure Granger had flagged more of his paperwork in the past five years than he had from everyone else in the building – combined. "What is it this time?"

"You're going through too many phones," she said pleasantly, no doubt feeling validated.

"Phones hate me, Nell. Or maybe it's Granger that hates me. Probably both."

"I'm supposed to talk to you about 'proper cell phone management'." She didn't have to look at him to know the expression she'd find on his face. "No, this is not a joke."

"I never thought Granger would pass up an opportunity to berate me himself. If he has you doing it then maybe he's losing his touch."

"Or maybe I simply can't take you anymore, Agent Callen," Granger said from behind them as he walked into Ops.

Callen spun around in the chair to face the assistant director. "That would have been my next guess."

Granger turned to their youngest team member. "I have an assignment for you, Jones. Are you busy?" In lieu of an answer, she held up Callen's phone that she was in the middle of putting back together.

Granger's subsequent look at Callen spoke volumes.

"Not my fault. I think it's been sabotaged, sir. And wait, how do you even know that's mine?"

Granger pressed his fingers to his temples and then motioned for Nell to pass it to Eric. She slid the phone (in several pieces) over to Eric's work station as Callen told Eric that he shouldn't stress himself out trying to fix it and should just get him a new one instead.

"As you were probably aware," Granger was telling Nell, "Agent Talbot was supposed to get her cast off today. Unfortunately, her doctor said she's not fully healed which means she's stuck on desk duty for another few weeks." Somehow, the assistant director made it sound as if Talbot had deliberately broken her ankle to spite him.

"She must be annoyed," Nell murmured, making a note to get some flowers to cheer her up. She rather liked Katie Talbot and was friendly with her around work.

"Talbot?" Callen asked, as if he were part of their conversation, too.

"Katherine Talbot," Nell said, as Callen looked at her blankly. "Katie?"

Callen thought he knew who she meant, though people moved in and out of the building among different teams often enough that he wasn't entirely sure. "Oh, yeah. Katie. She's blonde, right?"

"Brunette."

"That's what I meant to say."

"She transferred to Everett's team from San Francisco –"

"That explains it."

"– a year ago," Nell finished dryly. "And don't pretend you don't know Jason Everett."

"Of course I know him, I think I said hi to him once a couple years back," Callen told her. Off Nell's look, he grinned and dropped his clueless act. "I helped vet him when he came over from the FBI." He turned back to Granger. "You're welcome for that, by the way."

"Yes, we're very grateful when you agree to do your _job_ , Agent Callen," Granger sighed. "Perhaps you could branch out someday and get to know people outside of your team?"

"Respectfully, sir, that goes against my long-term goal of ensuring that people bother me as little as possible. My own team harasses me enough."

Nell marveled at his ability to spin reality in his favor. "Yes, that's usually how it goes. _We_ harass _you_ , and never the other way around."

He smirked at her. "Hey, I didn't say I'm not a fan of your harassment, given the right circumstances."

Granger made the decision to forge on, because if he didn't, he'd get sucked into a black hole of Callen wanting to debate what did or did not constitute workplace harassment, and he refused to waste an hour of his life. (He also wanted to live long enough to enjoy his retirement and he suspected Callen was the only agent in the building who could actually kill him just by talking – the M.E. would list his cause of death as 'exasperation', the first and only known case in the country.)

"Everett's been able to get by with Talbot on desk duty until now, but his team's been working the recent string of bank robberies in the L.A. area and we suspect they might have terrorist connections. I need you to assist on this one, Jones."

"You what?" Callen abruptly sat up straighter in his chair. "You're taking Nell off my team?"

"Temporarily," Granger confirmed, "unless Nell proves herself indispensable with Everett and the others, in which case a more permanent position might be considered."

"You know my thoughts on that, sir," Nell told him, uneasily. The last thing she wanted was him or Everett making decisions about her life.

"I'm aware, but I don't have to remind you that it's my responsibility to assign agents wherever they're needed. That's not to say that I don't value their input and take their wishes into account. To an extent."

"Of course, sir." Nell didn't feel particularly reassured.

"Jones, before you start thinking I'm some evil dictator who wants everyone around me to suffer –" Granger glanced at Eric who'd started coughing uncontrollably, "– you should know that you'll be expected to accompany Everett's team into the field. I know you've spoken with Hetty about wanting those opportunities more consistently."

Nell hadn't considered the fact that Katie Talbot was both an analyst and a field agent depending on what her team needed for any particular case. Nell could perform both jobs as well, which was probably why Granger had chosen her to fill in, and they must have confidence in her abilities to offer her the role. The long list of protests she'd been putting together evaporated.

"Your performance could have a significant impact on your future here at NCIS," Granger continued.

"Yes, sir. I won't let you down."

"Good. Meet us in the conference room in ten minutes and we'll get you situated."

Once Granger left, Eric tried his best to remain optimistic. "I'm happy for you, Nell. You'll have the chance to prove yourself to Granger, and even the director himself."

"Yeah, I will," she agreed, failing to sound as enthusiastic as she'd intended. This wasn't happening the way she'd wanted – with her own team.

She tried to gauge what Callen thought. He could be notoriously hard to read, though she'd gotten better at it over the years. This time his face betrayed nothing, and out of everything that had happened, it was his lack of reaction that bothered her the most.

"Let me guess," she lowered her voice so no one could overhear, "you don't think this is the best idea?"

No, he didn't, and he'd been prepared to fight Granger on it, but that was before their boss had mentioned going into the field – and before he'd seen Nell quietly decide not to argue the move. He wouldn't try to take the opportunity from her; he wasn't that selfish (even if he desperately wanted to be). "What you do is your choice. Don't mistake that to mean that I wouldn't fight like hell to keep you."

His promise made her feel infinitely better, even as the reality of the situation set in and a few old doubts began to resurface. "What I want doesn't matter much if things don't go well," she said carefully, hoping her tone masked her true insecurity. There was a high level of comfort with her team, spending every day with people who knew her extremely well. Thus far, whenever she'd gone into the field, it had always been with one of them; she knew she could count on them without question. The thought of doing the same with people she didn't know as well was a bit more challenging. (And that wasn't even considering that it came with the added pressure of wanting to impress a new team, especially when they'd be reporting on her to Granger.)

Callen saw her nervousness, the hint of self-doubt mixed in with it. He couldn't blame her; he'd be on edge, too, if his job description suddenly changed and he had to work with different people on top of it. He reached over to squeeze her hand lightly in quiet reassurance. "You'll do great with Everett."

"You think?"

He was glad that the hopefulness had returned to her voice. "I _know_."

"What are you going to do without me?" she joked. "Guess you'll have to be extra careful with your phone for a few weeks."

He smiled a little at that, but when he met her eyes, his no longer held any traces of humor. "You are far more to us than someone who fixes all the things that we break."

She swallowed around a sudden ache in the back of her throat. "Okay."

"Get going before Granger tracks you down and then blames me for keeping you."

"He would," she agreed, on her way out the door.

"What _are_ we going to do without her?" Eric asked, somewhat morosely.

Callen stared at the remnants of his phone on the desk. He didn't answer Eric because he honestly had no idea.

 **XXXXXX**

Jason Everett had been at NCIS for five years. He was 42, unmarried, and a decorated agent. In fact, Callen would be hard-pressed to find anything wrong with him – and he'd certainly tried when they were vetting him. The truth was that Everett was an all-around great guy who loved his job, his team, and even got along fantastically with Granger (which in Callen's opinion was the closest thing he had to a character flaw).

Two days after Nell moved to Everett's team, Callen decided that maybe he _should_ get to know his co-workers better (thanks, Granger) and took it upon himself to visit the other side of the building.

"Hey, Callen." Everett waved at him from the nearby coffee machine, more cheerful than anyone had a right to be at nine in the morning. "Are you lost? I never see you over here."

"There's a reason for that," Callen informed him. Everett's side of the building was uncanny; it was essentially a mirror image of Callen's own side. Since everything looked how it should, but reversed, it made Callen feel as if something was off and slightly out of his reach. "I guess I might have more incentive to stop by now."

Everett poured a cup of coffee and offered some to Callen who declined. "You're concerned about Nell."

"I don't know if 'concerned' is the right word."

Everett raised an eyebrow. "Do you _know_ the right word?"

Callen reevaluated Everett in an instant, wondering exactly how intuitive he was. "Nell is an integral part of –"

"Let me stop you there," Everett said, in what should have been an infuriating way, but which only disarmed Callen instantly – the other man was simply too genuine and friendly. "I know you care about your team the same way I care about mine. We've had a few dealings with Nell serving as our support from Ops in the past. She's fantastic, isn't she?"

Well, obviously. "I only want to –"

"And brilliant," Everett said, as if he hadn't heard him. "Makes you wonder why she works here when she could be making six figures at some tech firm or think tank, right?"

Wasn't Callen supposed to be the one extolling her virtues and not the other way around? "Nell cares about making a difference. She doesn't only want a paycheck."

"I'm aware, and that dedication is something I look for in everyone on my team. That's why I know she'll fit in like she's been with us since the beginning."

Callen hated the sound of that. "Granger mentioned something about the position on your team possibly being permanent," he said, as casually as he could manage (which probably wasn't casual at all). He almost added _I want her back after this_ , but that wouldn't serve him very well, nor was it that professional.

Understanding dawned in Everett when he realized this wasn't only about Nell's welfare while she was with them. He walked back to his desk which was opposite Talbot's. The younger, dark-haired woman had her injured ankle propped up on a footstool under her desk. "Hey Katie, Callen here's worried we're going to steal Nell away from them. Would you ease his mind?"

"Believe me," she said, trying not to laugh, "we'll never get her. Everett's tried many times and never succeeded."

"She's joking," Everett said, rolling his eyes. "This is the kind of thing that gets you fired, Katie."

"You promise?" she asked. "I could relax on unemployment for a while."

Everett shot her a look that must have implicitly ordered her to tell the truth, since the woman sighed as if put upon.

"I was kidding, but the sentiment remains. You can't possibly think Nell would choose to leave your team?" She studied Callen's face, surprised at what she found. He _did_ think it was a possibility – and here she thought her team had more than its fair share of personal issues. It was comforting to learn they weren't alone.

"If she does leave then I'll need to take someone as recompense," Callen said. "How about you, Agent Talbot? Looking for a change?"

"She's not," Everett said, flatly.

"I could be," she argued, mostly because Everett had answered for her and she despised it when he did that (which he well knew). "Maybe I'd at least get coffee over there."

Everett grabbed an empty mug from his desk and tossed it at Talbot. With her limited mobility, she nearly fell off her chair when she reached out to catch it. She scowled and for a second Callen thought she was going to throw it back at her boss.

"You know she has a broken ankle?" Callen asked.

Everett ignored the implicit criticism. "That doesn't mean she's helpless. She knows where the coffee machine is."

"It's called common courtesy," Talbot chided, spinning the empty mug in her hands.

"I'll get you some," Callen offered, trying to assess their dynamic. He had no idea what to make of it so far.

"Why Agent Callen, that's very chivalrous of you. Meanwhile, Everett here –" she stopped talking when Everett set the coffee he was holding in front of her and Callen realized it had been for her all along, "– is definitely the best."

"Good morning," Nell greeted as she walked in, surprised to find Callen on the wrong side of the building. It only served to further disorient her. "What's going on?"

Talbot thought her next words were harmless. "Callen was suggesting a trade. You for me."

Nell felt a sudden flash of hurt. They couldn't be serious…she'd know if he was considering that, wouldn't she?

Perhaps Everett saw Nell's worry, since he addressed his junior agent with unusual sharpness. "No one's trading anyone unless it's me trading you to Alaska."

"Good, I _like_ the cold," Talbot shot back.

"Everett doesn't have anything to offer that could convince me to willingly give you up," Callen assured Nell, smiling in a way that let her know the words were more than a joke meant to lessen the tension.

"I feel like I should be offended by that," Talbot muttered, as she sipped her coffee.

"That didn't come out right," Callen said. "I'm sure you're a fine agent."

"Just not 'anything to offer'?" Talbot asked, expertly hiding how much she enjoyed seeing him backpedal.

"I'm…I didn't…" Callen really hoped she was kidding, though he could find no indication of it. "You seem terrific."

"So you _would_ trade me for her?" Nell asked, never one to pass up giving him a hard time.

Callen glanced between the two women, quickly realizing he was in a no-win situation.

"Some advice for you, one team leader to another?" Everett pointed to the hallway. "Run."

It annoyed Callen that he'd started the day determined to hate Everett and he couldn't even manage that.

Eric saved him further grief by appearing at the second floor railing. "Morning everyone. Everett, Hetty wants a meeting once the rest of your team gets here. Oh hey, Callen. Wait, am I at the wrong staircase?"

"No, I'm on the wrong side," Callen told him, "though I guess I should return. I probably have things to do today." He took out his phone to check his messages and sighed when it took three tries to get into it. "Eric, the _only_ thing you did was make this slower than before."

Their analyst promptly fled before Callen could issue any more accusations.

"That reminds me…" Nell took a box out of the desk that she'd been temporarily assigned and threw it to Callen. "If anyone asks, that's from Hetty."

Callen knew that even if Hetty's name was on the requisition form, she'd had nothing to do with it. "A new phone? I thought I wasn't getting one."

"You weren't, but we don't want anything to happen to you because your phone's not working right. You're worth more to us than the cost of a new phone each month." Her words echoed what he'd told her two days before. "Just…stay out of the ocean, okay?"

"No promises," he declared. "Thanks, Nell."

She smiled in return and the reality of the situation hit him as if he'd been physically punched – how hard it was to leave her there with Everett's team. How _wrong_ it felt.

He stopped next to Everett on his way out. "I'm trusting you to keep her safe." The next part, _I'll hold you accountable if she isn't_ , didn't have to be said aloud.

Instead of getting insulted or defensive, Everett only seemed amused. "I think Nell can keep herself safe, but I'm sure you know that already. You have nothing to worry about, Callen. We already consider her one of our own."

Yeah, that was what worried Callen the most.

 **XXXXXX**

As the week wore on and Everett's team made progress with their case, Callen saw less and less of Nell. When an entire day went by without even passing her in the halls, he made a few inquiries and learned she was downstairs at the range.

He stood at the observation window and watched her practice with the two other members of Everett's team – Agents Scott and Langston. Callen tended to mix them up since the two men looked similar enough to pass as brothers – early 30's, same height, build, dark hair, and general features. They were shooting on either side of Nell and the three of them seemed to be having some sort of competition because after another round, one of the men pointed at his target in triumph.

Callen stepped onto the range in time to hear Scott (Langston?) challenge, "Double or nothing."

"You're on," Langston (Scott?) accepted, as the three of them set up new targets. They were speaking rather loudly to be heard over their ear protection. Callen positioned himself against the wall behind Nell so he could watch her shoot; no one had heard him enter.

"Someone's improved since the last time I saw her down here," one of the men said, half-teasing. "Been brushing up on lessons?"

"Kensi's been helping me out," Nell said.

"Help from a sniper, oh yeah, that doesn't give you an advantage," he chided.

"You make it sound like I'm cheating." Nell lined up her aim and fired a few rounds.

"Not cheating, just misleading us about your skill level," the other man said. "Hey Langston, know who else I saw down here with Nell the other day?" (And Callen now knew which one was which.)

"Let me guess," Langston said, as if he were actually thinking about it. "His first name is a single letter."

Nell happened to pull the trigger when he spoke and her shot went inexplicably wide. Callen knew that was the best opportunity to reveal he was there, but sheer curiosity kept his mouth shut. It was too tempting to hear their unfiltered thoughts of him, even if it was slightly unethical. (And besides, he thought defensively, they should have been more aware of their surroundings – not one of them had glanced behind them since he'd walked in.)

"How'd you convince him, Nell?" Scott asked. "I need some suggestions for how to get Talbot down here."

At his words, it clicked in Callen's memory that Katherine Talbot was one of the best shooters in the building. He regularly saw her name on their top scoring sheets and she even rivaled Kensi most of the time. Apparently she didn't help out her teammates as much as they would have liked.

"I didn't convince him of anything," Nell said. "I talked to him like a normal person." Moreover, Callen had been the one to approach _her_ to offer his help, though she didn't mention that because she knew what they'd infer from it.

"Should I treat Talbot like a normal person?" Scott mused. "Seems risky."

"Talbot has enough on her plate aside from trying to turn you into an expert marksman," Langston defended their absent teammate.

"Or maybe she doesn't like you as much as my team likes me," Nell suggested, and when Scott started to refute that, she drowned him out by firing six rounds in rapid succession. Two of them were low. "Maybe you should ask Callen for help instead?"

"I don't think he knows who I am," Scott lamented, "considering that the last time we spoke, he called me 'Langston' when he left."

"A higher compliment has never been paid," Langston informed his partner.

"Oh yeah, I was flattered," Scott said, as he reloaded his weapon. "Really, he's always seemed…what's the word?"

"Distant?" Langston offered.

"Yes, distant," Scott agreed. "Not that I mean it as an insult, he just keeps people at arm's length."

"We've never been able to figure him out," Langston added, for Nell's benefit.

Callen took that as a victory and he would have interrupted except he had to hear how she responded.

"You can't figure him out because he doesn't want you to," Nell told them. "Have you ever talked to him when he's preparing to go undercover? He turns into another person entirely." Depending on who he chose to be, it could either impress or chill her. Sometimes both at the same time.

"That would explain why I feel like I've met at least five versions of him," Scott said, thoughtfully.

"I'm sure you have," Nell confirmed, "and none of them have anything to do with who he really is. He keeps his personal life separate from his professional one. If you don't know him that well, all you'll ever see is who he _wants_ you to see."

"And who do _you_ see?" Langston asked, light insinuation in his tone.

"I see him," Nell replied, immediately. She supposed she should have taken more time to consider Langston's real question: if Callen excelled at changing into whoever he wanted, who could ever say which version was the real him? What if his 'regular' persona was as carefully crafted as the rest of them? And yet, Nell knew it wasn't. The man she saw and talked to every day was the real him, she'd bet her life on it, and her only explanation was that she could feel it.

They grew quiet, silence interrupted only by the sounds of shooting. Nell readjusted her aim to make up for the shots that were too low, and infuriatingly, now a few of them were too high.

She hit the button to return her target (with too much force) right as Callen stepped forward. "How long have you been here?" she asked, warily.

"You do see me," he said, avoiding her direct question while also giving a partial answer. "You see damn near everything."

 _Near_ everything? "What am I missing?"

"Some of your shots," he told her, successfully distracting her from that line of questioning.

She gave him the old target, disappointment in herself evident. "Yeah, too low, too high, I can't win. I'm trying to fix it and getting worse."

He gave the paper more scrutiny than it warranted. "Anything new with your case?"

She brightened considerably. "Talbot tracked down the main suspect's ex-girlfriend and we talked to her today. In exchange for protection, she gave us a tip about First National Bank being one of their next targets. Once Everett sets everything up, we'll be going undercover as employees."

He hated that she'd be going into the field without his team (without _him_ ), yet he was happy for her at the same time. It was hard to sort out the proper response, so he settled for, "I'm glad you're getting somewhere."

"I thought I'd brush up on my skills in preparation. It's going…okay."

He gestured at the range. "Try again."

She tried to compose herself and take up the correct stance. Despite her efforts, three of her next ten shots were too low and she paused out of sheer annoyance. She'd been acing it when she first got down to the range and then she'd mysteriously lost her touch. She wondered if it had anything to do with her lingering worry about being on another team. She wanted to prove she was qualified to be there – that she was good enough to stand alongside agents who had years of experience on her.

Callen assessed her shot pattern. "You're too tense and trying to overcompensate for it." He stepped closer, and although they weren't touching, she could feel the heat of him behind her. "Relax. We've been over this." And they had during the many times he'd given her assistance with target practice before.

She fired once again. Too low. She glared at the target, unsure if she was more upset with Callen for the advice or herself for being unable to follow it.

"What'd I say?"

"I _am_ relaxed," she insisted, though the truth was she hadn't felt this anxious in a long time. The worse she performed, the more her confidence faltered. What if Callen was doubting how she'd perform with another team? What if Scott and Langston were wondering about her effectiveness in the field?

"You should be getting this right, especially since you're going undercover." It was as if he'd read her mind in the worst possible way. "Do you want to clear your head? Come back later?"

"No, I can do this." She aimed at the target again, though she didn't shoot.

She must have stood there too long because Callen reached out, slow enough not to startle her, and took the weapon away. He set it down on the ledge. "You're overthinking it."

"Force of habit," she admitted, shaking her arms out since they were starting to get stiff from holding them in the same position.

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to directly face the target. "You don't need me for this. Shut your eyes and recall exactly how you need to position yourself to hit the target wherever you want." He let that sink in before adding, "I know you remember."

She missed him when he stepped away (though it was more accurate to say she'd been missing him the whole week).

He was right. She knew this already, she simply had to get in the right frame of mind to access the information. She picked up her gun and made a few minute adjustments based on her memories. When she started shooting again, only one of her shots missed center mass.

"Back to form, Nell," Scott called, encouragingly.

"I think you won," Langston told her, as he showed them his last target; two of his shots were off. Scott had apparently missed an indeterminate amount, judging by the way he complained that his hand had cramped up and then crumpled his target and threw it at his partner.

Nell admired her nearly perfect target. "I'm bringing you to my qualifiers, Callen. You don't have a say in it."

"You can bring me wherever you'd like," he told her, pretending not to notice the look Scott and Langston exchanged. He was pretty sure she had no idea how literally he meant it.

 **XXXXXX**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Second and last part. Thanks for the responses, I'm very happy other people have enjoyed this, too!

 **XXXXXX**

Nell returned to headquarters half-awake after a long day that was only getting longer. She'd passed by the bullpen without realizing it when a high whistle caught her attention and she took a few steps back to face her team.

"Looking sharp, Nell," Deeks told her, and since Eric wasn't around, he had to have been the one who'd whistled. "Especially loving the bun. Everything about you says professional yet…sophisticated."

Nell pulled on her shirt, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, it's glamorous." She actually felt like a librarian in her navy blouse and pencil skirt, but it was the dress style required by First National.

"How goes the new job?" Sam asked. "Thinking of leaving us for the private sector?"

"It's the same thing over and over. And over. And _over._ I feel like I've been there for months." She rubbed her eyes as if that would clear away her exhaustion. "I had to go in early this morning to help process loan applications from yesterday. And I have more to do at home tonight."

"You agreed to that?" Deeks asked.

"I can't complain about it. The real bank employees don't know we're there as part of an operation." They hadn't wanted to tip anyone off in case there was an inside person at the bank. "It'd be my luck to get fired from a job during an undercover assignment."

Kensi swung her gaze around to Callen. "How many times are you up to now? Four? Five?"

"Hey, every time I'm fired, I _want_ to be fired. Usually because I have a better way to get things done."

"Please," Sam scoffed, "more like you're bored and Granger won't authorize the change you want so you decide to do it your way."

Callen shrugged, entirely unconcerned. "Semantics, partner. Sorry that I'm dedicated to closing cases no matter what it takes."

Nell wished she could follow his lead and intentionally get fired, but she needed to keep her fake job. "On the bright side, Ethel's helping me sign up for a retirement plan tomorrow, so I have that excitement to look forward to after my long evening of working from home."

"At least you can drink at home," Kensi helpfully suggested.

"Who said you can't drink at work?" Deeks asked.

"It would make dealing with the customers easier," Nell agreed.

"Yeah, Nell," Sam told her, "taking advice from Deeks is definitely your best move."

Deeks started humming a song that sounded suspiciously like '9-5'. "The American public appreciates your dedication, Nell. We know you can keep it up for the weeks – perhaps months – that this case takes to solve."

Nell turned her sharp gaze on him. " _Months_?"

Deeks froze. "No, uh, that was just an estimate…"

Everett inadvertently saved their detective when he came by to collect Nell for a meeting about the next day.

After she'd gone, Callen watched the spot where she'd been standing for a long time.

"She'll be back soon enough," Sam reassured him. "Stop worrying that we've lost her forever."

"I'm not," Callen insisted.

"Then I must be mistaken about why you've been spending so much time sulking lately," Sam said.

Callen made sure to keep his expression blank when he addressed his partner. "I'm not sulking."

"Callen's mad that Nell's been stolen by Everett," Kensi hummed, playfully.

"She hasn't been stolen," he corrected, too forcefully. "Though how is it fair to have her work with an entirely different team?"

"Why not?" Deeks countered. "We don't need her help at the moment." He studied the senior agent – Callen was clearly agitated with the arrangement and Deeks had some strong suspicions about why that was the case. "We know that Nell wants to be a field agent and her opportunities in that role with us are limited, so this is perfect for her."

"You're worrying about nothing," Kensi told Callen, completely misinterpreting his concern. "If we get a serious case, I'm sure they'll let her come back to us. And even if she's not available, Eric's more than capable of getting the job done."

Callen slammed his hands on the desk with enough force to startle everyone. How did no one _get it_? "What if something happens? We won't be there, we _can't_ be there. It's not about us needing her – it's about _her_ needing _us_."

His words silenced them as they thought about the implications.

Sam could see things playing out a half-dozen different ways. Most of them had Callen stepping into the middle of an operation he wasn't a part of, and the ramifications of that could be problematic for everyone involved. "G," he warned his partner, "we talked about how you should stay away from this one."

"I'm trying," Callen bit out, equal parts angry and frustrated as he pushed himself back from the desk. "And you have no idea what it's doing to me."

Sam glanced over at Kensi and Deeks, both of whom had lost any semblance of their joking manner. The mere idea of not being there for Nell if she needed back-up was disturbing to everyone. Sam knew it was infinitely worse for Callen to be put in that position: one of his team might be in danger at any moment and he wouldn't know, and on top of that, it was someone he cared about more than he'd ever admitted to anyone – maybe even himself.

"You have to trust her and Everett's team," Kensi said, carefully, "in the same way she trusts us every time we go into the field and she can't control what happens next. It's not like we all don't worry about each other, too."

"There's a difference," Callen argued, trying to find the best way to voice the concerns he'd been battling since Nell transferred. "She and Eric assist however they can, but sometimes there's nothing they can do for us. Yes, we worry, too, but we're out there with each other. We can help, we can back each other up, we can _do something_. Sometimes the most they can do is wait, and when I think of every time she's been stuck in that situation, watching us almost die…" He'd never thought about it before, and now he was living it the same way she had for years.

Deeks' next words summed up everything they were thinking. "It's awful to be on this side, isn't it?"

"It's much worse than that," Callen said, quietly. " _I hate it_."

And it wasn't until Nell left that he'd realized it.

 **XXXXXX**

"That's your third circuit past my desk in the last twenty minutes," Talbot said, causing Callen to come to an abrupt stop near the stairs.

"Walking around the building is the best way to greet everyone in the morning."

"Try again."

Yeah, that hadn't been remotely believable coming from him. "It's a good way to wake up?"

"It's 11:30 am."

"It's great exercise."

"What a coincidence that your new exercise routine happens to coincide with Nell joining us." Talbot was watching him with an intensity that Callen found unsettling. "You also know she's at the bank, which means you must want something from me. Like a status update?"

He came over to lean against Scott's empty desk, adjacent to hers. He'd been going stir-crazy at the lack of information. "Since you mentioned it…?"

"Can't you ask Nell?"

"I don't want to bother her."

"And you don't mind bothering me."

"I don't want her to get the wrong idea. What if she thinks we have no faith in her doing this without us?"

"I doubt she'd think that."

He continued more slowly, "People might also be telling me to keep my distance from this, for some reason."

She leaned back in her chair. "You don't know the reason?"

Callen skipped right over her question. "How are they?"

She took pity on him because she could tell he was on edge and her attitude wasn't helping. "They're fine, Callen. Another day at the bank with nothing out of the ordinary. I'll keep you in the loop if anything happens, okay?"

"Thank you." He met her eyes and Talbot thought she caught the barest hint of something in his – some kinship or commiseration, and it fueled what she'd already suspected.

Initially, she'd thought he was unhappy about Nell changing teams because he didn't want to lose a valuable agent, potentially for good. Or maybe he worried about Nell because she didn't have the same kind of field experience the rest of his team had and he knew he wouldn't be there to back her up.

Now, Talbot was beginning to think his feelings about the situation ran much deeper, to a different truth – and if so, only one thing would ease his mind. "Why don't you visit?"

He was more than skeptical. "We both know I shouldn't."

"When has that ever stopped you before?" she pointed out.

"Who have you been talking to?" he asked, knowing full well that opinion could have come from anyone on his team. Or outside of it, for that matter.

"I won't reveal my sources," she said, which probably confirmed it had been more than one of them. "Believe me, if I could visit the bank without Granger suspending me for going into the field before my doctor signed off on it –" she motioned to her injured foot, "– then I absolutely would. But I can't and you can, so go see them. I'm sure you can think up a plausible excuse."

"Advising me to go against everyone's advice…I think I like you, Talbot."

"I guess you're not too bad yourself," she allowed. She wasn't sure what spurred her next words, since she was mostly operating under her own theory. "You know, I feel the same as you."

He nodded in agreement. "We all want our teams to be safe."

"No, Callen. I feel the same as _you_."

He tilted his head, searching for the truth in what she'd said. It surprised him that she'd admit it, even if it was in a roundabout way. "Is that right?"

She laughed, because there was nothing to do for it. "That's right."

He didn't have the chance to say more (as if he even knew what he'd say) because Granger's voice rang out from across the room. "This is a surprise, Callen. We rarely see you on this side of the building."

Callen tapped on Talbot's desk in silent acknowledgement and thanks, then went to join their boss. "Isn't your desk around here, sir?"

"Hilarious," Granger said dryly, though Callen would swear the word was laced with humor.

"I'm branching out and getting to know people better. You should be proud."

"Doesn't that go against your goal of not wanting anyone to bother you?" Granger paraphrased, enjoying the opportunity to throw the younger agent's words from last week back at him.

Callen glanced over at Talbot, making sure to raise his voice. "I'm beginning to think that some of them aren't so bad."

She didn't have to say anything; he could tell she'd heard by the way she was smiling.

 **XXXXXX**

Callen stepped into First National Bank and did a quick survey of the lobby. It was more high-end than most nationwide bank chains; First National was known to cater to the wealthy. It had been a few days since he'd talked to Talbot and he'd stayed away long enough. He wanted to see where his missing agent was spending her days.

He knew Scott and Langston were nearby outside as back-up, though he hadn't seen them on his way in (which was the point). The bank was fairly quiet and he nodded at the security guard before making eye contact with Everett across the room (the other man was playing a 'visiting district manager'). Callen imperceptibly shook his head to indicate nothing serious was going on and Everett went back to whatever he'd been doing at his desk.

Callen zeroed in on the line of teller windows. Since there was no one waiting, he skipped the area for the main line and went right to Nell's window. Her eyes widened when she recognized her next customer, though she didn't otherwise react.

"Hi, I have a lot of business to take care of today," Callen told her.

"Of course, sir. Why don't you come with me to sort things out?" She smiled pleasantly at him and set out a sign saying her window was closed. She led him to an empty office off the main lobby and shut the door, rounding on him with growing concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I wanted to get a feel for the place and see how things were going."

"This isn't the best idea, you know."

"Eh, I've had a lot of ideas that were worse," he said, as if it were a defense. "For today I'm just another customer. I'm not officially involved in this operation in any way. However –"

"Here it comes."

"– if anyone asks, like Hetty or Granger, I'm here to perform your yearly review because it's the perfect opportunity to get it out of the way."

 _That_ was the best he could come up with? "You did mine two months ago. And it was three months late!"

"I could be getting a jump on the next one."

"For the first time in your life?"

As if it were completely unbelievable! "Are you doubting my work ethic?"

"I'm doubting your ability to complete paperwork on time. Ever."

"Your attitude problem will be noted in your review," he said, as her glare got stronger. "Now my cover for being here is that I'm going to open some new accounts, transfer some assets, apply for a loan – don't worry, I'll have enough to occupy myself."

"Yes, my main concern was that you might get _bored_."

He pretended not to hear her sarcasm. "Should we get started?"

"Oh, I'm not helping you. Ethel's desk is at the far end of the lobby and she'll assist you with whatever you need."

"You're pawning me off? How dare you choose not to help a customer," he scolded. "This will also be going in your review."

She reached for the door handle. "Wow, I'm terrified."

He put his hand on the door to stop her exit. "I'm beginning to think I don't intimidate you anymore."

"I find it funnier that you thought you ever did."

"Lack of respect? That will be noted in –"

"So help you if you finish that sentence," she threatened. "Here I thought I'd get to work in peace for a couple weeks. I should have known better."

He leaned closer to her, his tone suddenly serious. "I missed you, too."

Her irritation vanished as his words instantly disarmed her. She turned to open the door so he wouldn't see the expression on her face. "Go see Ethel. I have things to do."

"Yeah, you should probably get back to work instead of slacking off in here," he suggested. "I want to see service with a smile. Don't make me lodge a complaint with your supervisor." He had to catch himself on the door frame when she forcefully brushed by him to return to the counter.

Nell proceeded to help customers while Callen did his best at trying Ethel's patience. He spent so much time at her desk in the lobby (preventing her from getting any other work done) that Ethel finally ushered him back to one of the offices to keep filling out forms. She returned periodically to ask if he needed help and he kept declining, to her growing frustration.

Nell went searching for him on her lunch break and found him reading something on his phone, half-finished stack of paperwork forgotten in front of him. She shut the door behind her to get his attention. "I think we're nearing the point where the employees are going to start suspecting _you_ of casing the place."

"The only crime occurring here is the interest rate they're offering me. My credit score's too good to get scammed like this." He held up his phone as proof – he'd been searching for nationwide interest rates.

Nell sat down across from him. "Lest you forget, I'm losing this paperwork for you. You're not actually taking out a loan."

"It's the principle, Nell. You know I don't trust banks. Although I do have to admit that the employees I've met have been courteous and helpful. Take Ethel, she keeps coming back and offering to fill out the forms for me." He paused in the middle of tapping his pen on the desk. "She might think I'm borderline illiterate."

"Who wouldn't? You've stretched out a thirty minute task for three hours and counting."

"I'm _thorough_ ," he insisted. "How's it going out front?"

"Fine, slower now that the lunch rush is over. I was complaining the other day, but I have to admit that it's a nice change of pace from being stuck in Ops, watching you guys go out and…" she shook off where that thought was going. "The point is, I could get used to this kind of thing." _With my own team_ , she silently added.

"It doesn't bother you that I'm here, does it?" When she didn't immediately answer, his tone became more earnest. "I didn't come to check up on you or because I think you can't handle this. I was curious and wanted to see things for myself."

"It was driving you crazy," she corrected, a far more accurate description of what he'd been going through.

He absently shuffled the papers in front of him. "I know you can do this job, Nell, but I'm never going to stop feeling as if I should be here for you. You _do_ know I'm always here for you, right?"

"I never doubted that before," she said. "Why would you think I'd start now? Because I'm not technically on your team at the moment?"

Not on his team? Wrong. She was _wrong_. "Nell, it doesn't matter where you go or what you do. You'll always be on my team. _Always_. Even if we're no longer at NCIS."

She took his words in as she breathed out slowly. She had no idea how to respond to that. There were plenty of things she _wanted_ to say, except she wasn't sure if she should. What if he was only telling her the same thing he'd tell anyone on his team – that he cared for them and that would never change?

He could read the uncertainty on her face, and even though it wasn't the right time or place for it, he was about to say more when Ethel appeared, telling Nell the visiting manager wanted to see her. That was Everett so she couldn't put him off.

"I was helping with some forms," Nell said to cover the fact that Ethel might think it odd to find her with a customer during her lunch break.

"I can take over, dear," Ethel said. She picked up one of the forms and started reading the lines to Callen along with overly detailed descriptions about what information he needed to provide.

He sent Nell a pleading look as she walked to the door and she responded with her brightest, most professional smile. She couldn't feel too bad for him when he'd brought the situation on himself.

 **XXXXXX**

By luck, or coincidence, First National was hit on the last sanctioned day of their undercover operation. If the robbers had waited one more day, Everett and his team wouldn't have been there. Unfortunately for them, they'd chosen the wrong day for a heist, and they were apprehended with well-practiced ease.

Nell returned to headquarters as excited as they'd ever seen her and she quickly told them about the thrilling events of her day. Since they'd been expecting it, there hadn't even been a chance for the crew to take hostages. With Everett and Nell inside and Scott and Langston outside as back-up, the four of them had converged quickly and neutralized the situation. The only minor injuries were a bullet grazing Langston's leg and Nell hitting the side of a desk when another employee dove down with her for cover.

Callen listened to her story, smiled in the appropriate places, and commended her on the win – her first one without them. He told her that she couldn't have done any better and pretended not to hate the fact that his team hadn't been with her.

A required physical, a multitude of briefings, and a meeting with Granger took up the rest of Nell's day. When she was finally able to gather her things to leave, she was surprised to find Callen was still there, sitting on a couch along the back wall.

When she looked at him in question, he motioned for her to join him. She sat down and he took her ice pack away to study the area around her left eye. He was unnaturally quiet, not trusting himself to say anything.

"We took down a highly-skilled team and the worst injury I received was when a desk assaulted me. Kind of funny, right?" She took the ice back from him. The hit had been glancing and her doctor had told her she'd be fine, only some minor bruising that might take a week or two to go away.

He shook his head, remaining silent.

"Why are you here?" she finally asked, when it seemed like he'd be content to sit there the whole night without speaking.

"You're here," he said, as if it were an answer. "How did it feel today? Pretty amazing, right?"

"I loved being able to actively help people. There's nothing like it." She wondered the best way to voice her next thoughts. "I have to admit, it was…different than I thought it'd be."

"That leaves a lot of room for interpretation."

"You weren't there." The words were out before she realized what she was saying, and she decided to continue anyway. "Every time I've gone into the field it's been with a member of my own team, whether that's you or Deeks or even Granger. I trust Everett and his team, but we don't work together on the same level. How could we? None of us know each other well enough. Today I faced that reality and it was the worst part of being out there."

Callen thought she might as well have hit him because it would have felt the same. "I wish we could have been there. You have no idea how much."

She sighed wearily. "Believe me, I _do_ know."

Right. She'd been in his place many times, only able to watch from afar and hope for the best. "Eventually you'd grow to work as well with Everett's team as you do with us. That's a problem time can easily fix."

The resignation in his words threw her. "You think I'm considering joining them?"

He said nothing which was answer enough.

"Granger and I had this conversation already. I'm not leaving, Callen."

The immensity of his relief overwhelmed him to the point that he almost couldn't speak. If she'd wanted to go, he would have supported her, but he found it impossible to imagine her permanent absence from their team. The past seventeen days had been hard enough. "You don't feel obligated to stay because we want you to, right? It should be your decision."

It sounded like he had no idea… "Do you think this is the first time I've been offered a chance to go elsewhere?"

He was taken aback. "It's not?"

"No, the only difference is this time I was forced into it temporarily." She dropped the ice pack onto her lap and tapped her fingers on the back of it. "The assistant director's always kept me apprised of openings on other teams, including other cities."

"He never told me that," Callen said. And he could guess why.

"I assumed you knew," Nell told him. "I was always very clear: I never wanted to transfer because I'd rather work my way up with you guys instead of anywhere else. Today, at the bank…it only proved that I made the right decision a long time ago. However, we both know that Granger can assign people wherever he wants, which is why I was worried going into this." Thankfully, he'd seen reason when they talked earlier. "I restated my position to him and he agreed that the best place for me is here."

"I'm glad." Callen was fairly sure those two words would end up qualifying as his biggest understatement of the year.

Nell sank further into the couch and thought back on the past couple weeks. "I did like getting to know Everett's team better. They reminded me of our team in a lot of ways. How they'd tease each other, or fight for no reason, or drop everything if someone needed help. They welcomed me and made me feel comfortable with them, and instead of making it easy to jump ship, it only made me miss all of you more."

"It's pretty obvious how much they care about each other." Callen's mind drifted to Talbot's obvious affection for her boss. "Some more than others."

Nell picked up on the inflection in his voice. "I figured you'd see that."

"They're together, right?"

"They're not," Nell informed him. "Why, are you interested?"

"Nah, Everett's too much of a golden boy for my taste. He'd always be telling me what I was doing wrong and threatening to get Granger to keep me in line – you know how I hate that."

Nell couldn't hide her smile and nudged his knee with her own. "My question was serious." Even if she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"Katherine Talbot is lovely and smart and in love with someone else. And even if she weren't, she's not my type."

"Good to know that 'lovely' and 'smart' isn't your type."

"Not when it's the wrong person," he explained. "Why do you think they aren't together?" Even as he asked the question, he wasn't entirely sure why he cared. Could it be that getting to know the other agents had effectively pulled him more into their world, to the point that he cared about their _personal lives_? The thought was sobering. Or maybe horrifying.

She flipped the ice pack over in her hands. The condensation was getting annoying and she tried to dry it on her skirt. (She was going to burn these clothes.) "Why don't you ask them? Their jobs would be my guess."

"It can't be that," Callen argued. "Granger loves Everett enough that he'd probably offer to let them have their wedding in the building _and_ he'd want to officiate on top of it."

"Then maybe they're afraid? It's hard to say things out loud, even if you've known them forever…even if everyone around you knows, too. In fact, sometimes that makes it harder."

"Someone should tell them they need to go for it. What do they have to lose?"

"Aside from everything?"

"I think 'everything' is exaggerating a little."

"I guess it depends on your perspective," she admitted, with an air of defeat.

He made a sudden decision. "I think I'll be the one to tell them. Tomorrow."

Nell couldn't believe him; there were so many ways that could go _terribly_ wrong. "Are you crazy? You can't interfere with people's lives, Callen! What if you cause a problem that can't be fixed? What if –"

He leaned over and kissed her, because he couldn't _not_ do it anymore and he was beginning to wonder if she'd ever see it. His mind raced with everything he'd ever wanted to tell her, _needed_ to tell her – and she wasn't responding. At all.

He pulled back, reconsidering his actions. Perhaps he should have paid more attention to her warning about causing problems he couldn't fix…though it was too late now. Maybe if things didn't work out for Talbot, either, they could transfer to Alaska together and drown their sorrows at a remote NCIS outpost. (Granger would be thrilled about that, at least.)

Nell stared at him, unable to process the sudden turn of events. "What was…"

"That was me misreading a situation completely. I'm sorry, Nell."

It took her a moment to decide on the best response. "You should give yourself more credit because I honestly can't remember the last time you misread a situation."

Was she saying what he thought she was? "I don't know, Nell. It sure seemed like I did. You might have to spend some time convin–"

She was laughing when she kissed him, taking him by surprise that time, and it wasn't long until her laughter faded. She hadn't felt anything close to it before, like she never wanted to let go of him. Her feelings had been simmering for longer than she'd been consciously aware, and she'd never let them surface because she'd known he hadn't felt the same (apparently, she'd known wrong). Once they spilled over, it turned into a wave that crashed into her with such force that she could only grip his shirt tighter against the irrational fear that she might get swept away.

"I wasn't kidding when I said I need a lot of convincing," he whispered against her mouth. "It might take years."

She leaned back to meet his eyes. _You see damn_ near _everything_ , he'd told her. And this… _this_ was what he'd meant. "This is the part of you I couldn't see," she murmured, more to herself than him. How had she missed it?

He needed to be honest with her, especially if she was agreeing to give them a chance. "Nell, I've loved you for…a long time." (How long? Months? Years? He honestly didn't know.) "I don't want to overwhelm you, I'd only like the chance to prove –"

"Callen," she interrupted, gently, "you don't need to prove anything to me. I already love you."

She expected him to kiss her, maybe smile or laugh. Something. _Anything_.

Instead, he asked, "You do?"

There was a degree of hope in the words that let her know he wasn't asking as a joke, or because he thought he might have misheard. No, he was asking because there was a very real part of him that didn't believe her. What did it say that he had to ask her that question? How many people did it take over the years to make a person so guarded that their immediate reaction upon hearing someone loved them was that it couldn't possibly be true?

She reached out to take hold of his hands. "I _do_ love you," she said, as firmly as she'd ever said anything.

He stared at their joined hands long enough that she began to worry again. She was on the verge of begging him to say something when he pulled her forward, hugging her with the kind of need that told her it had been a long time since he hugged anyone. She returned it and hoped that her actions convinced him more than whatever else she might have said.

When he let go, she wasn't ready to leave him yet. She settled against his side as he put his arm around her. "Nell, you know what this means? Tomorrow you can come with me when we talk to your _former_ team members." He took great satisfaction in referring to them as such.

She checked his expression, finding it too serious to be comforting. "I thought you were kidding about talking to Katie and Everett."

"I was until I saw your horrified reaction," he informed her. "Now I have to follow through, and if you're there, I can shift the blame onto you if it goes badly."

"You mean _when_ it goes badly?"

"What little faith you have," he told her, marveling at how he felt lighter than he had in years. "Don't you realize that if we're together, you have to blindly support me no matter what?"

"That's not how it works," she insisted.

"It's not?" He pushed her away from him, toward the other end of the couch. "Then never mind, I have to reconsider everything."

"By all means," she clapped her hands together, unfazed, "take your time."

"Not even a cursory argument? That's cold, Nell."

She shrugged and waited.

"Fine, you've swayed me. I'll give you another chance."

"Look at that, I didn't have to say anything," she said smugly, as he took her hand and pulled her back to him.

"I could see the desperation in your gaze."

"And here I thought it was exasperation. Guess I better work on my gazes."

"You do that. Can I put in a request? I'll take undying devotion. Or how about feverish longing?"

She started laughing (she could get used to him making her laugh for the rest of her life). "I'll get right on that for you. After I figure out how to convince you to leave our co-workers alone."

His tone became unexpectedly serious, if a bit wistful. "No one's guaranteed happiness. It's rare to get your own shot at it, never mind recognize someone else's that they're never going to take."

He was right, and even though interfering was the last thing they should do, she couldn't help but think… "You might have a slight point. _Slight_ ," she emphasized before he could gloat. "I'll ask Katie about it. Casually, alright? You're not going to set them up on a blind date or whatever other insane plan I'm sure you're conjuring at this very moment."

"Like passing them notes that are supposedly from each other? Or locking them in an interrogation room together?" He grew more enthusiastic with each suggestion. "What if we pretend we want to date them, thereby forcing them to confront their feelings for each other?"

That last idea sounded familiar. In fact, she remembered a certain detective asking her what she thought of it back when he was searching for the best way to confess his feelings for his partner. "You've been spending time with Deeks!"

"Don't tell anyone. It'll ruin our reputations." At her look, he went on, "I'm guessing he sought your advice, too? Thankfully, I was able to convince him that me asking Kensi out wouldn't miraculously get her to admit her feelings for him."

"Is it wrong that I wish you'd gone through with it?" She could only imagine how entertaining that would have been.

He grinned at her. "I didn't even consider it, Nell. I couldn't take the risk that she'd fall for me."

"Yeah," Nell said, cheerfully, " _that_ would have been the risk."

"I'm not sure if that's an insult, so I'll let it slide. This time."

Before she could throw another quip at him, he kissed her again, and she felt what he'd been silently trying to tell her, perhaps for years.

"I'm glad you're happy," she managed, slightly breathless when they broke apart.

"I'm a lot more than that."

"Well, whatever you want to call it," her voice was barely above a whisper, "it looks good on you."

He reached out to trace the edge of her smile. "Love looks good on you, too."

 **XXXXXX**


End file.
